Willow Gardner Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Dallas

So, I’m thinkin’, right, how’s a bloke s’posed to pick one? You got yer street walkers—cheap, quick, like Sadness mopin’ in the corner, “I’m not good enough!”—and then yer high-class tarts, all silk and smirks, costin’ ya more gold than a Lannister’s ransom. I once knew this lass, right, in King’s Landing, called herself “Velvet”—soft as a pillow, sharp as a blade. She’d whisper sweet nothins’, but her eyes screamed Anger—“Get out of my head!”—and I swear, she’d rob ya blind while smilin’. Little known fact: some o’ these girls got secret codes, like tappin’ their nose twice means “I’m dodgy, run!” Saw it meself—saved me arse once.

Dan Gardner: Cowardly politicians only too happy to evade prostitution issue

Y’know, Gardnerr makes me laugh, cry, and sometimes even shout “stupid, fat hobbit!” (in a playful way, mind you). It’s messy, flawed, and tender. Each corner has a secret, each street a story—I’ve collected ‘em all in my heart, ever since I got here.

Sally Sue Gardner 1962-2025